


Consigliere

by HolySticks



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: A Lot of Plot, Bar, Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Love, Fluff, Grillby's Restaurant (Undertale), Had to change tags because I'm a hopeless idiot, Implied Violence, Love, Love at First Sight, Minor Violence, Nothing Sexual, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Roses, Shh, Some Plot, Soulmates, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tron Reference, True Love, Uh... Bomb?, Violence, gun - Freeform, home is where the heart is, scent, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-13 10:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19248913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolySticks/pseuds/HolySticks
Summary: She's on good terms with Sans, seems to if anything be a consigliere. Dangerous, sure, for anyone who didn't run a neutral bar. Though... if she gets sick and he could've stopped it, or just in general didn't take her somewhere safe; he's willing to bet he would be dust.(Sorry about the renaming! I finally figured out how to do it and I didn’t feel like the title fit. (づT﹏T)づ )





	Consigliere

  It is cold, that, at least, is certain. People shuffling to and fro never really stopping. They want to head inside to hide within the warmth of their own homes. The wind brushing against his coat, his tie floating for a second before falling back to his collared shirt. The smell of snow coming, coffee coming from that small hole-in-the-wall on the corner. His shoes thudding rhythmically on the grimy sidewalk. His hands hidden in pockets so he can feel the fabric on his hands. His eyes watch the world around him, almost in a blissful haze. City buildings, apartments, oh was that another bar? Cars rushing past in a hurry, free of traffic at this time of day. Cool blues, greys, browns, blacks, and as he passes by the park on the way to work, a single shade of pink.   
        He stops for a second.   
_Pink?_   
        And there is a human, staring up at the sky in frustration. Clearly muttering things that are probably obscene. He would normally keep walking... He _should_ keep walking. He knows her though, however little that knowledge may be. She's on good terms with Sans, seems to if anything be a consigliere. Dangerous, sure, for anyone who didn't run a neutral bar. Though... if she gets sick and he could've stopped it, or just in general didn't take her somewhere safe; he's willing to bet he would be dust. 

        He looks both ways quickly before walking across the street. Okay so maybe he didn't see that sports car, but it screeched to a stop. Not the first time it's happened. He makes his way to her as she shudders, taking out her phone and seemingly ready to text someone. He shoulders off his coat, knowing full well his pockets are filled with some items that could be possibly incriminating, and puts the heavy coat on her instead. She jumps, twirling around and clutching her phone close to her chest.   
        "What the actual - oh! Hey it's you mister!" she starts off accusingly before cheering up. He gestures to his coat on her shoulders. It almost dwarves her. Almost. She smiles and holds the coat closer.  
        "Thank you, mister. What are you even doing out here?" she asks as she slips her phone in her pocket. Plan abandoned.  He stares at her blankly for a moment then makes a sweeping motion with arm, from the chest to gesture to the rest of him. She laughs and nods.  
        "Right, right you start up around two in the afternoon." He nods his head to confirm this. Not like she would understand him if he spoke.   
        "Are you sure I can wear this?" Another nod, almost mocking. He did walk over and dump it on her shoulders. She looks, happy. Oddly happy as she completely puts the coat on. It's big, but more of a "you stole that from your boyfriend" kind of look than anything. Besides she looks comfortable and warm. So at least he's not gonna get the blame if anything happens to you. He slides his hands into his pockets, keeping his body language open, and leans his weight on his back leg.   
        "Mister? Do you mind if I join your walk to your work? I forgot my coffee this morning so I kind of blanked on everything, it might help me collect my thoughts enough to function. Plus, you're really hot," she rambles as she steps closer to him. He startles enough that he playfully shoves her head down into the collar of the coat to hide the added heat in his face. She laughs as he begins to walk away, she follows after him. Her smile still bright.  
        "Thank you, honestly, mister. I think my toes would've frozen off. Frostbite is a cruel mistress,"  she thanks him earnestly. He laughs at it, surprised by her rambling. Her face burns even redder and she's grinning. Her eyes glittering like she just found the Holy Grail.  
        "Mister. Random thought, do space heaters even come close to the amount of heat you can give off? Not at max heat from you though! Maybe half heat?" she asks, she's curious and it makes him smile. He raises the hand closest to her and tilts it back and forth quickly.  
        "Right, right depends on the space heater... Does it count on your mood, too?" she queries. A consigliere, he _should_ be wary... He _shouldn't_ tell her anything more. Such a shame she seems to have thrown that idea out the wide open window into the night, never to be seen again. Besides, it's not as if she's asking personal questions. In fact, most people already know the answers; but he'd rather humor her than get a gaster blaster in his face later. He nods and she almost looks like she's in awe.   
        "Angry?" A furious shake of his head. As if those little things could compare to his anger.   
        "Sad?" He make a gesture of going higher with his thumb up.   
        "You're kidding. When you're sad... A space heater hits your max? Now I'm concerned what you consider to be sad," she mutters and takes a step closer into his side. The crowd has grown thicker, so it has good reason doesn't mean he doesn't still get flustered about it. Nothing he can do though, except get even bluer. 

 

* * *

  
        Once they make it into his bar she hurries to get on a stool. Sure, maybe she's a bit expressive with her emotions; it's refreshing.   
        "So mister, do you always start this early?" she asks. He shakes his head "no" and she looks elated and a little disheartened all at the same time. He finds it curious.  
        "That's good that you make sure you get enough sleep, but I still hands down think that if you made a breakfast menu everybody but a few would run out of business!" she laughs. 

_I'm flattered, thank you._   
        She stares at him for a second before he smiles at her and she grins back. It doesn't seem as though she understands what he said, but enjoyed the sound well enough. He makes his way to behind the bar to take inventory, turning his back to her. He glances back at her, concerned that she'll be bored since he can't really entertain her that much from here on out. 

        "Are you worried about me?" she asks, "You shouldn't be. I think I rather enjoy the view from here." He turns around for a moment, her eyes are trained on the windows. He sighs softly and shakes his head, going back to counting the bottles left from last night. He opens the door to the black and reaches his hand around to the light switch, flicking the lights on. She yelps in surprise and he swears he hears her slip off the stool. He snickers, consigliere or not, that's sad. 

        "Mister. I forget... You cook and you mix drinks, you provide safety, you give haven, a place for love for thrive. Not LOVE, but love... That's really special. It's always warm, no matter how hot tempered or cold you can be, this place just radiates the warmth of -I lost my train of thought. I got derailed. You're special. I've never met anyone like you before, it's doubtful I'll meet anyone like you after you. Not even Mister Gaster. He needs to reel in his temper, even more than you. Not to say you're bad at not exploding on people. Though, I have seen you purposely make certain people wait longer for their food after pissing you off. Mind if I think that's petty? Hilarious to hear them splutter though, just petty. Better than Mister Gaster though. Mis Gaster honestly shoots people on a whim. It's concerning. I've had to fix so many relationships because of him, intelligent or not. He's an idiot," she rambles without thinking much. Most likely in her own world.

_You've got a big mouth don't you? Spouting off about your boss and all. Isn't that dangerous?_

        "Oh no, not here. You're the only other one here after all. And as long as you remain steadily neutral there's nothing he can do. Not like you're running this for anything other than your own curiosity sake. Information after all," she snaps back. The flames along his arms flicker dangerously. 

_No wonder he keeps you around, you're too smart for your job. Not a lot of people can understand me, you know. And most humans can barely even register when I make noise outside the noises I naturally make._ He puts the glass back in its spot after putting an almost empty bottle in front of it. 

        "Well I mean, it's mostly just the intent behind your words. I don't like the fact that you basically just threatened me, but I understand it well enough. It's not every day a human can understand you. Somebody did teach me, a Mister Sans."

_Sans taught you? What did you do for him?_

        "Gave him a very detailed lesson on guns. How many bullets are in the ones usually found around here. The basics, I still need to tell him about the new ones on the market though. I don't think a boss monster would use it, but if they did. Well, good bye three city blocks..."

_New ones on the market?_

        "Once I tell you, I want free food all day today. The new ones on the market are... They utilize soul magic. The more magic you have the more damage it does. This area currently only has the pistols and rifles. Next town over they have the heavy guns. It takes from the user, or the one who pulls the trigger. It doesn't drain you. These things were made for war, they're gonna get used for war. Just have to figure out who's dumb enough to use them. I saw a crate of them earlier. Right before you came over, I'm glad you dragged me out of there though. It looked less like I was snooping. More like I was waiting for someone."

_No matter how ditzy you act... You did earn your title for a reason. So that's why you're not actually in the family._

        "Thank you mister. You flatter me, but yes. I am not in the family for that exact reason you're thinking of. This way I'm just a civilian. A nosey one, but a civilian with protection. I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

_Whatever the reason is, thanks. That's good to know. At least I -what do they even look like?_

        "They look like white and red tron guns. The color scheme is uniform. Their labels are of stamp of a red monster soul. It's creepy. Got to see one of them pointed in my face. Got away with acting dumb, with a bit of flirts... Thank the stars I just ran into a guard with no real authority."

_That's a death sentence... Free drinks for today?_

        "Yeah, and yeah. It's terrifying. I don't want to think about what's going to happen to this city. Stay safe, mister."

_You too, missy._

 

* * *

       

        The bell above the door sings again, signaling Hops' leave. Their drunken stumbling drawing a laugh out of the girl sitting at the bar, a coat she does not own resting on her shoulders. Sans runs his finger along the rim of his shot glass, watching as the bar runs empty. The man of fire leans on the bar, slumping his shoulders in relief. 

        "I guess that means I need to get going," she hums, taking the coat off. She lays it on the wooden counter gently. She brushes imaginary dirt off of it before she hops off the stool. 

        "So soon?" Sans jokes, although his posture has turned to rubbish and he looks as though he may pass out. He won't, but it looks like it.

_Stay safe, missy._

        "Will do mister. After all, looks I need to start making sure I have favors from you more often. Best burger I've ever had!" she laughs before going out the door into the starless night. He pulls his coat closer to him, about to take it to the back room when he notices something. It smells odd. He brings it closer to his face and takes a small sniff. It doesn't smell like him exactly, and he's sure she doesn't smell of smoke. The smell reminds him of roses and campfire smoke. His brows furrow in confusion as he pulls it away. 

        "What's wrong?" Sans asks. Grillby hands him his coat, leaning back on the bar. Sans takes it and holds it to his face. He spares a moment, maybe two before it hits him.

        "Well then..."

_Never thought I'd meet my soulmate before you?_

         "No, not really. That's just one more reason to not actually let her get too involved. Well anymore than she is. Damn," Sans mutters. Sans puts his hand to his head and hands Grillby his coat back.

_Thinking about how to break this to your dad?_

"He's gonna be livid."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! What song(s) were you listening to while reading this? Or what song(s) did you think of while reading this?


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